In my previous entry I wrote briefly about our trip to a local lake last Sunday. A pictorial of a pretty good day. Yeah, it was.

The next morning my son asked for five bucks for a little gas for his Camry. I said "sure, get my billfold out of my jeans and grab a fiver". Then these words from junior; "Uhhh, Dad-- your billfold's not in there." Now I was AWAKE. "What? Bullshit." So I looked for myself as if I could see better than him. Sure enough it wasn't there.

Well then, I must have took it out of there for some reason (even though there was no reason) and laid it somewhere. So I searched..... and searched, to no avail. X had to get to school so he grabbed quarters from the Culligan bottle for petrol. It was time for me to leave for work too, but not til I found the fold.

We had stopped at QuikTrip on the way to the lake, so I called them. Nope. Don't have it.

So I searched the truck, the yard, the boat--- tore the house apart again.

Then I remembered we had made another stop at Walgreens half a mile from here on Sunday before coming home to stay. So I called them; not open yet.

I had to go to work, so I left on the forty minute drive, leaving the radio off and just thinking; trying to "retrace my footsteps". Had I taken it out and stashed it somewhere? I do weird stuff like that sometimes. Had it slipped out of my pocket at Walgreens? Unfathomable! I am like a robot when it comes to my billfold but Walgreens was open now so I called. NOPE.

 I realized that in these tough times the odds of someone turning in a wallet with a couple of hundred in cash in it were slim anyway.

Then I remembered my spare key to my truck was in there too. With our address! Hell, someone could just come down here at night, unlock the truck, start it and drive it away. FUCK. And of course my ID, debit card, business cards, proof of insurance, and FISHING LICENSE!

Still though I KNEW that I didn't drop the billfold while dead sober at 3 o'clock in the afternoon of a bright and sunny day. I have a bone deep awareness of the thing there in my back left pocket at all times. I can't take two steps without it being in there without going into a full panic.

These things ran through my mind all day yesterday at work and as a result I was in a crappy mood. Chris had to buy my lunch. Still though, I was fairly confident that I would come home and find the thing. NOPE. I searched again, looked in drawers that hadn't been opened since Y2K, looked in the freezer, flipped the couches over and shook them out for the third time. Bottom line? I had to go to bed resigning myself to the possibility that I had dropped it in the parking lot of Walgreens, never to be seen again; resigning myself to being broke for the next week, to having to have my truck blocked in by the kids car so it wouldn't be stolen. To the hassle of getting valid identification with no proof of who I am. 

This morning though I continued. I tore the truck inside out again, just in case. Then back to the bedroom for the fourth or fifth time. I ripped the bed apart and there between the box spring and the wooden poster frame there it was wedged.

I haven't been that happy since the last time Dick Cheney's pacemaker failed! (Dick has good health care though and his evil ass was saved)

Huge sighs of relief! Dancing in the yard! Me and my billfold were doing the samba, the tango, the foxtrot!

The neighbors were staring.

Of course I feel like a complete 'tard.